


pondering the voyage

by goldtreesilvertree, mothwrites



Series: into the wild abyss [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: (or is it), Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Gen, Team Dynamics, inappropriate daemon touching, minlace and possible jacoffel in other installments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 23:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11611128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtreesilvertree/pseuds/goldtreesilvertree, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwrites/pseuds/mothwrites
Summary: “That’s not the point. We’re supposed to be a team. You’re my daemon, not his, or have you forgotten?”'His Dark Materials' fusion, set during season 3. Kepler's power play leaves the crew and their daemons feeling uncomfortable.





	pondering the voyage

**Author's Note:**

> Will we ever write a fic in straight canon? Who knows! This is set on the Hephaestus during season 3, but it's a HDM fusion, so the characters have daemons. No ships but implied Minlace, which will have a bigger focus in later fics.
> 
> Also, there's gravity on the Hephaestus in this fic. We figured it would be easier than writing floating animals.  
> Let us know your thoughts!

“Jacobi, reports. I’m tired of waiting.” Kepler’s voice rang out from the doorway of the bridge, where most of the crew were working. Jacobi hummed, and not wanting to stop mid-calculation, passed a read-out to his fox-daemon Cepheus who took it up gently in her teeth.

Cepheus trotted over, delivering the reports. Kepler removed the paper from her mouth, then in full view of everyone bent down and patted her head, taking care to rub the spots behind her pointed ears in the way that she liked. She smiled lazily, rubbing up against his leg like a cat.

In the background, Eiffel and Minkowski both stared, faint horror visible on both their faces. Eiffel’s eyes immediately went to Jacobi. He wasn’t looking at Kepler, or his daemon, or their audience. He continued working on his calculation, but the hand that gripped his pen was white-knuckled, and his jaw was set tightly. Eiffel petted Cassiopea protectively as she burrowed further into his flight-suit.

Cepheus exchanged a few soft words with the colonel before returning to Jacobi. She curled up on the control panel nearby, just out of his reach.

“So you’re in one of _those_ moods,” he murmured, once they were finally alone again.

She flicked her eyes up at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It is literally impossible for you to not know what I mean,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Stop letting him do that in front of other people.” _Stop letting him do that at all._

Cepheus yawned, stretching, and curled back into a ball with her tail around her feet. “ _You_ stop him, if it bothers you that much.”

“That’s not the point. We’re supposed to be a team. You’re my daemon, not his, or have you forgotten?”

Her ears flicked back, her tail beginning to twitch. “Oh, yes, I’m _your_ daemon. I don’t think _I’m_ the one who needs reminding of that.”

“ _Six years,_ ” Jacobi retorted, just stopping himself from slamming a hand down on the control deck. “Six years since I’ve had a drink, or not had a job. I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?”

“Maybe it’s not _me_ you should be worrying about being ‘good enough’ for. Or _Kepler,_ for that matter.” Her tail lashed dangerously close to the control panel. “Why can’t we ever just be _happy?_ ”

“Oh, I’m _fine._ You’re the one who keeps showing off for no reason. Columba never does this to _Maxwell_.”

“As far as _you_ know.” She sniffed. “Now who’s the one with ‘no idea’ what the other one’s talking about? Denial doesn’t suit either of us.”

Jacobi cursed quietly, and for the thousandth time wondered why he couldn’t read his daemon like others could. Why they’d stopped being close. “Neither does being cryptic. You got something to say to me?”

If a fox could shrug, she would have. “Do you? You’re the one who wanted to _talk_ about all this.”

Jacobi sighed, and put down his pen. “Fine. Why are you letting him _use_ you to psyche the others out? Don’t you hate being touched? Shouldn’t it feel… wrong?” It felt wrong to him at least, or… no, not wrong, exactly. Strange. Alien. _Inappropriate_.

“Because it’s funny? Besides, _I_ like Kepler. Or I would, if…” Her fur began to fluff up in discomfort, and she curled into a tighter ball.

“What?” he asked, a little more softly, and ran a hand across her spine. “Talk to me, Ce.”

She snuggled closer to his hand. “I _don’t_ like Andromeda. She scares me,” she told him, frankly. “And I don’t want to upset Kepler if it means upsetting _her_.”

“So you’d feel uncomfortable if I started hanging out with her alone?” Jacobi asked pointedly. He liked Andromeda well enough - she was easier to get on with than Kepler, at least. “Irritated? _Worried?_ ”

She nipped at his fingers. “ _Yes._ Because she’s _vicious,_ and if she kills you, I get to experience life as a glitter-cloud.”

“And Kepler is twice my size and could easily snap your neck,” Jacobi pointed out immediately. “Which is why it _worries_ me when you let him _touch_ you. Understand now?”

She looked resentful. “He wouldn’t do _that._ It’s just a stupid game to frighten the new kids. I can look after myself _and_ us with Kepler.”

“But you understand why I don’t like it?” he asked, hand resting on her back. They weren’t touchy-feely as a rule, but the moment seemed to call for it, and he felt a little more content with the feel of her fur under his fingers.

She sighed, “I understand. I’ll try and be more careful, if you do the same.” She folded her forepaws over her muzzle, and snuggled into the warm control panel.

He stroked her a few times, before returning to his calculations. All was comfortably silent until a thought entered his mind, and without thinking, he voiced it. “Would you let other people touch you?”

She twitched her head up, sharp golden eyes immediately focusing again. “Depends on the person. Why?”

Jacobi shrugged as casually as he could. “No reason,” he said, and went back to work. Cepheus watched him, eyes narrowed, but eventually returned to her curled-up position on the console. There’d been enough awkward conversation for one shift already.

*

Cassiopeia hadn’t left Eiffel’s sleeve since their work shift on the bridge.

“Cassie, you’re getting in the way,” Eiffel said gently, shooshing her away to avoid hitting switches on the comms panel. “What’s your deal today?”

“ _Kepler._ ” The rabbit’s voice was muffled by the fabric of the sleeve, and he held his arm out automatically for a moment to allow her to climb onto his shoulder. “He just- he’s just _gross_. How could he just… _do_ that? In front of _everyone?_ ”

He tilted his head to rub his cheek against her ears. “It was pretty awful to watch. But we don’t know anything about his team, remember? And Cepheus… she didn’t seem to _mind_.” He raised a hand to pet her head absentmindedly, “But you don’t need to be anywhere near him if you don’t want to be.”

“Jacobi minded,” Cassiopeia pointed out. “And everyone _else_ minded. Minkowski and Rigel looked like they were going to throw up.”

“Which is probably the reaction Kepler was hoping for. He’s just an asshole who gets off on making us all uncomfortable, and the only way we can deal with that right now is ignoring him.” He paused. “If you’re worried about him, stick close to me or Rigel. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Mmm,” she said, twitching her nose. “Do you think Jacobi’s okay?”

“I hope so. I don’t think he’d appreciate us asking, though.”

She nudged him with her nose. “But you like him.”

Eiffel snorted, “Sure, as much as I like _any_ of Kepler’s shady little gang. But that’s like being my favourite injury I’ve received during this mission: I’d still be pretty happy not to put up with him any more- hey!” He glared at her as she playfully nipped his fingers, as much as he could glare at something so close to his face.

“You _like_ him,” she repeated. “If things were different, you’d be friends. At _least._ ”

“What are we, seven?” he retorted. “Besides, do you _like_ Cepheus?”

She twitched thoughtfully. “I could,” she said eventually. “She’s fun. Rigel and Echo are like family, but they’re not _fun._ I think she likes having someone smaller than her around. That can’t fly.”

“Rigel let you ride around on his head for an hour yesterday, I think he’d take offense to you saying he’s ‘not fun’,” he teased. “Why this sudden interest in the SI-5 crew?” _Why this sudden_ interest _in_ _Jacobi and Cepheus?_

“After that little display, I think _everyone’s_ interested,” she sniffed.

“Maybe, but not necessarily in _bonding_ with them.” They both shuddered at the thought of bonding with Kepler. “Are you interested because you’re worried about them or because you’re just nosy?”

“I can be both. More worried,” she admitted. “ _Interested_ makes me sound like Dabih. I just don’t like seeing people mistreated, and neither do you.”

“We don’t know that they _are_ being mistreated,” Eiffel sighed, “We don’t know anything about them. And _yes,_ it makes me curious, but it also makes me worried. Do we really want to get dragged into that mess?”

“Oh, of course, wouldn’t want to ruin this comfortable, tranquil everyday life we’ve got going…”

“Hey, if we’re all stuck together in the middle of nowhere, the _last_ thing we want is to start prying into the tragic backstories of the others. What if they decide to pry back?”

“Hah!” She thumped a paw triumphantly. “You _do_ think they’re being mistreated.”

“I didn’t say that!” He realised he’d raised his voice, and spoke again more quietly: “Even if you’re right, what could _we_ do? After Hilbert, we’re pretty much the bottom of the pile on the station right now. And Jacobi and Cepheus aren’t exactly chatty about their personal life.”

“How do you know? Have you asked them about it?” She asked, knowing the answer full well.

“How _would_ we ask them about it? Just stroll up and say ‘hey, lovely solar radiation we’re having, by the way, does your boss touch you inappropriately?’ Because _that’s_ a really normal conversation topic.”

“We could just… let them know we’re available,” she offered. “Besides, wouldn’t the others be impressed if we got one of _them_ on side?”

He scritched her ears. “You _do_ make a good point. Can you imagine how surprised Minkowski and Rigel would be that we’ve done something _useful_ for once?”

“Exactly! Espionage! And, you know, kindness. _Nice_ espionage.”

“Espionage with flowers and bunnies?” He raised an eyebrow. “Wow, this is going to be just the _cutest_ spy movie.”

She stuck her cold nose into his ear, making him squeak. “ _Any_ spy movie starring us would be the cutest spy movie, dumbass. And you’d love it.”

“I would, I would,” he sighed indulgently. “Okay, let’s finish this, and then _maybe_ we’ll go find Jacobi.”

She nestled against his neck. “I knew you’d come round to my way of thinking. You’re not _completely_ stupid.”

He laughed, and she had to cling to his shoulder for a moment. “Love you too, Cassie.”

*

“Isabel wants to know if you two are free yet or not,” Echo said, swooping down from the rafters and startling Rigel.

Minkowski jumped a little herself, then laughed softly. “A little warning maybe?” She didn’t look up from the console, but she was smiling. “We’ll be done in a little while, if you two can be _patient_.”

“ _Not_ her strong suit.” Echo wandered over to Rigel, affectionately bumping his ear. Occasionally he wished that Rigel could stray as far from his other half as he could from Isabel without feeling sick. It would give them a chance to talk alone. “You’re unhappy about something.”

The dog shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just - stay away from Kepler and Andromeda.” He gave a slight shudder.

Echo huffed. “Andromeda doesn’t scare _me,_ ” he said, before preening a wing. “Or Isabel. ”

Rigel gave a quiet growl. “We’re not _scared._ ” He lowered his voice. “But we saw him _touch_ Cepheus. Like it was nothing.”

“Huh.” Echo considered this. “Strange, but not unheard of. You’ve been touched before: in private, of course.” Minkowski had a husband. Minkowski had _Isabel._

“Not like _that._ You’d’ve agreed if you’d been there, it was so… _inappropriate._ Not even an accident.” He shivered, hackles rising. “It was like he was trying to make a point of it.”

“Probably,” Echo agreed. “Stand down, you,” he said, sounding almost affectionate despite his rough bird tones. “Good puppy.”

Rigel nudged him with his nose. “Don’t patronise me.” His tone was teasing.

“Enough squabbling, boys,” Minkowski said, sliding down from her stool. “I am officially done for the day. Let’s go find Lovelace. Where is she?”

Echo tilted his head, searching. “Mess hall, I think.” Pretty far away, come to think of it, but he dismissed the thought. The star had done a lot of crazy things to both of them.

Minkowski didn’t seem to notice the distance. “Great, I’m _starving._ ” She rested a hand on Rigel’s head for a moment, as if to soothe them both, then followed the albatross to his human.

*

“But _why_ does it bother them so much?” Hera asked for the hundredth time.

Alana hadn’t been in the bridge when the incident in question had happened, but she’d seen it plenty of times before, and it no longer surprised her as much. Columba let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a squawk.

“We _told_ you,” he said irritably. “It’s just inappropriate, especially in public.”

“Do your databanks not have much on daemon etiquette?” Alana asked, more out of a sense of curiosity than anything else. AIs had little reason to know much about daemons, given that they lacked their own.

“Yes,” Hera said slowly, “but it’s… hard to fully grasp the meaning of it all.”

Maxwell leaned her chin on her hands, taking a momentary break from typing. “Is there anything specific confusing you?”

“Well,” Hera continued. “Daemons can touch each other. Cassiopeia and Rigel are always touching or playing together. And I’ve seen humans touch other daemons before and it wasn’t a problem. So why was this different?”

The scientist leaned her head against the back of the chair. “Without knowing the context of the other incidents you’ve observed, it’s difficult to explain the difference. But it usually implies a certain form of… intimacy not normally displayed in public.”

“Or you could just tell us about the other incidents in question,” the magpie piped up. Alana swatted at him, and he easily flapped out of reach. “What, like you weren’t curious too?”

“I’ve been given to understand that it’s not polite to talk about it,” Hera said primly. Lovelace had given her _quite_ the earful for that.

“That’s _correct,_ ” Maxwell responded, with a glare at her daemon. “Look, physical contact between a human and another person’s daemon is usually seen as possessing a romantic or sexual component. Both of which make it an inappropriate action in public and led to your crewmates’ discomfort earlier. Is that a good enough explanation?” She’d never thought she’d have to have _this_ conversation with an AI.

“So… Okay,” Hera said confidently. “I think I get it now. I had no idea this was so _complicated._ ” She paused, and for a second Alana thought the subject was finally over. “Does Jacobi mind when he does that?” she asked after a while.

Columba nearly fell off the chair for laughing. “Oh, this’ll be good.”

Maxwell rolled her eyes. “That’s not really a question I can answer, Hera.” _Nor one I particularly want to think about._

“Because you don’t know, or because you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Because I am not the expert on anyone’s comfort levels barring my own, though you’re right, I’m not enjoying talking about it either.”

“I said something wrong again,” Hera sighed. “I told you. Complicated. I’m not sure I’m any worse off for not having an animal attached to me.”

Columba cawed angrily. “You couldn’t understand, you don’t have-”

Alana gently but firmly clamped a hand around his beak. “It’s not that you said something wrong. It’s that you asked a personal question I don’t have the answers to. I suppose it’s similar to you trying to understand body language when you don’t have a body, except there isn’t really a written guide.” _Though maybe one would be useful_. She wondered if anyone had thought to write one before.

“Hmm. I’m sorry if I offended you, Columba,” Hera said, a little icily. She knew full well what the magpie had been about to say. “We can drop the subject.”

Alana released her daemon with a glare in his direction. “We can. And I’m sure Columba is _very sorry_ as well,” she added, though the magpie didn’t look even slightly apologetic.

“Of course,” Columba said, bowing sarcastically. He jumped up from the chair and flew to the doorway. “Are we done?” _Can we go check on the others?_ He added silently.

Alana folded her arms. “Yes, I think we’re done here.” _For now._ She had a sneaking suspicion this conversation was going to come up again.

*

“Well,” Andromeda said, languidly stretching to lie over Warren’s legs as he sat on his bunk later that evening. “You’ve put the cat among the pigeons and no mistake.”

“Did you mind?” He scratched her head between her ears. “Those two needed a shock to the system.”

“Eiffel and Minkowski, or Jacobi and Cepheus?”

“The former, though the latter two definitely needed a reminder of some kind.” He closed his eyes. “Anyway, it’s not like Cepheus minded.”

“Little upstart,” Andromeda said disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t encourage her.”

Kepler laughed. “Jealous, darling?”

She growled softly, almost playfully. “Should I be?”

He continued stroking her. “I think not. Don’t you think she’s a little endearing, though?”

“I think she’s just waiting for the day someone discovers a working daemon transplant,” Andromeda said darkly. “Not that I blame her, really. It’s not as if Daniel is particularly good at looking after them.” She thought back to the first time she saw Cepheus in that dive bar in San Francisco; exhausted, heavy-eyed, fur mangy and moulting. No wonder she’d thrown herself at a human who could actually take care of her. No wonder Jacobi had done the same.

“He’s improving, I think,” he replied, “But even if he wasn’t, _you’d_ have nothing to worry about. I think a panther suits me far better than a fox could.”

Leaning up, she nuzzled into his neck like she had done when he was young. “Damn right. I can’t imagine being a fox.” She’d always been large animals before she settled; big cats especially. “I’d miss Cepheus and Columba if they weren’t around, I think,” she added, settling back down. “For a while, at least.”

“You’ve had plenty of time to get used to them,” he agreed, remembering how _raucous_ it had been before all the daemons and their respective humans had gotten used to each other. “This lot are less… agreeable, though. Have we even _seen_ Eiffel’s daemon since we fished them out of that pod?”

“The little rabbit? She hides in his sleeve. Unsurprisingly.” None of the SI-5 demons had ever had much respect for daemons who’d settled as prey animals.

“It’s a little odd, given that he’s not exactly shy,” Kepler prodded. Maybe Andromeda would have some insight into her behaviour. “He’s never even acted _intimidated_ by us.”

“Rabbits don’t,” Andromeda explained. “They just stare. They’re too stupid to know when to run.”

 _Probably true._ “What about Rigel and Echo? Learned anything from them?”

She tilted her head on his lap, considering. “Rigel’s a dog. Even _you_ know what that means. Echo… Self-importance. Guilt. And something… Have you noticed how far he can fly from the captain?”

Kepler paused in his stroking for a moment. Then: “It’s not _entirely_ unheard-of, but…” He narrowed his eyes, “there was no mention of him being able to do that before she came to the Hephaestus.”

“I wouldn’t want that,” Andromeda said decidedly. “To be that far away from you. I know it can be useful, but… It wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Neither of them seem to care very much for their personal safety,” he shrugged, “Perhaps this is another manifestation of that.” Neither of them believed that, of course.

“And you wouldn’t want it either,” Andromeda said, practically ignoring him to seek confirmation. She knew, of course, but she wanted it from his lips. “Right, Warren?”

“Of course not.” He sank his fingers into the thick fur of her shoulders. “The risk of someone taking advantage of our separation would be too much.”

“Mmm.” She relaxed. “Not that _you’ve_ ever taken advantage of someone else’s bond, of course,” she teased.

“That’s hardly the same thing,” he argued, though his tone was too relaxed for a true protest.

“Is too.” She stretched and yawned, before getting up to pad softly off the bed. She took the papers he’d been combing through up in her teeth and deposited them on the desk nearby. “It’s good to see you less tense. I don’t like what this mission is doing to us.”

He stretched, then got to his feet. “None of us do.”

“Get back down,” she growled. “You’ve barely slept in days.”

“You nap enough for us both,” he teased, “It’s not like anyone would dare wake you.”

She dragged a blanket across to the bed. “I wasn’t asking. A few hours, at least. You can’t judge Jacobi for not looking after himself and then pull stunts like this.”

“A few hours,” he agreed. “Wake me if anything important happens?”

“Of course.” She sat at the side of the bed, her head resting on the sheets, on guard. They could rest, at least for a little while.

 


End file.
